Two Hours is a Lifetime
by Pyromanic Kittie
Summary: During a run Steve Rogers runs into a pecular girl walking alone with several bags of groceries late at night. He spends the next two hours in the company of this interesting person and expands his views. OC (If this is well liked will continue the story. Unsure if it should be continued.)
1. Chapter 1

Zaria sifted the weight of the grocery bags in her arms as she puffed out a steamy breath into the cold winter evening. She was late leaving work today and had lucked out that the grocery store two blocks from her work was still open as she really needed something to eat in the morning, having an empty fridge for a third day in a row was really a downer, although now she was regretting getting the groceries there as she still had to walk all the way home with three large paper bags.

"Had to pick the one day they were out of plastic bags, didn't you Zaria?" She chastised herself out loud as she turned the corner. "Well, on the home stretch now anyway."

Shifting the weight of the bags again she hummed a tune to keep herself warm. The constant shuffling of the bags finally tore one of them so when she shifted them for yet another time apples dropped out of the side of one of the bags.

"Damn it!" Zaria cried as she tried to juggle the bags and pick up the fruit. The more she tried to grab the apples the more tried to fall out of the bag.

"Need some help?" An unfamiliar voice asked from behind her.

Zaria turned around to see a particularly handsome stranger hold several of her apples. Blonde hair, blue eyes, over six feet of pure muscle it was as if he could have stepped right out of GQ if it weren't for the beat up sweatpants and old sleeves top.

He raised an eyebrow and she realized she'd been staring for a little too long, heat crept up her neck. "I, uh..." She started as she shifted to face him. The torn bag decided to drop the last of her apples and a few cans of soup as well; she flushed. "Yeah, that would be great." She finally answered.

The GQ worthy man smiled, and it was a dazzling smile, and began picking up the runaway fruit and escapee soup cans before coming over to her. "Mind if I carry those for you?"

Zaria blinked as she tried to register the question and realized he was indicating the bags still in her arms. "Isn't this how crazy people get into girls homes and rape them?" She asked.

The man looked confused. "A gentleman always offers his help to a woman in need."

Zaria laughed. "You are living in the wrong era." She said with a chuckle as she assessed the man. "I guess if you had wanted to hurt me you would have done it by now and you certainly didn't need to offer to help me pick up my food, so here," she handed over the bags still chuckling, he took them graciously. "So do you have a name Mr. 'I'm-from-the-1940s'?"

He stared at her bewildered by her statement. Maybe he wasn't all that smart, but not like he needed to be with a body that attractive. "How did you-" He stopped mid thought and pursed his lips before he started again. "Steve," he said. "Steve Rogers."

Zaria stared at him as she began to lead them down the street to her apartment. He was peculiar but extremely good looking and very generous with offering his help. "Well Steve nice to meet you, I'm Zaria. Zaria Barnes."

He paused mid step and had a strange look on his face, an almost forlorn look, but it passed quickly. "Zaria... That's an unusual name for such a common sounding last name."

Zaria chuckled, enjoying his attempt at starting a conversation. "My name is Russian. My grandmother was originally from Russia during the Second Cold War, but my grandfather was American I guess although the story is a little convoluted."

"Russian..." He mulled for a long moment before he continued. "So what are you doing out so late at night? I wouldn't think you would go out alone just to get groceries at this time of night."

Zaria smiled, she was enjoying his company more than she expected. "I work at a pub aways back and got off later than usual. And I wouldn't say it's that late at night, I would call it very early morning; I mean it is after 4 a.m. And what about you? Why are you out and about at this time in nothing but some ratty sneakers, sweats and a sleeves top; aren't you cold?"

Steve shook his head. "I was jogging and I didn't want a jacket getting in my way. You work at a pub?"

Zaira turned the corner and made her way to the glass and steel from door to an apartment building. "Yeah, I'm a bartender at the pub and we usually have a waitress or two on hand but they both called out sick so I was working the whole place on my own then had to do clean up."

"Why are you working there?"

Zaria paused and thought about it as she held the door open so Steve could get inside with the bags. He was doing surprisingly well at keeping the bags from ripping more and spill all their contents down the sidewalk. "I took on a second job when my grandmother got sick, needed something in the evenings so I could keep working the mornings." She led the way to her apartment door. "Geez, I'm telling a stranger my life story." She said with a laugh.

"Should I stop asking questions?" Steve asked with such innocence she felt bad at making the joke.

"No, it's just..." She stopped to think about what she wanted to say while she climbed the stairs. "I haven't spoken to anyone in quite some time, it's a little weird to be telling so much information to someone, especially when we've just met."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you feel awkward. I can always stop asking questions. Anyway I seem to be doing a lot recently."

He reminded her of a child who wanted to know everything there was to know about anything. She snickered under her breath at the thought. "It's alright. As long as you're not going to break into my house one night because I showed you where I live." She stopped in front of the vanish-peeling door and set about unlocking the four different locks on the door.

"You really do worry about someone breaking into your place, don't you?" He asked as he noticed the amount of locks.

"There isn't an alarm system in this place and when my grandmother was living here I really didn't like the thought of her being home alone with such a flimsy lock so I asked the landlord to add more. Told me it was fine if I paid for them myself." She shoved the door open and stepped inside, flicking on the lightswitch in the small kitchen. The kitchen was well kept and clean. The wood cabinets had been refinished last year with a lighter stain and the vintage O'Keefe stove was polished with the more modern refrigerator colored to match the stove she it didn't stand out too much. The walls were a nice light yellow that matched the daisies on the kitchen table's tablecloth.

Steve stopped just inside of the door and took in the well kept apartment, his eyes zoning in on the 1950s stove.

"Like it?" Zaria asked as she made her way into the kitchen with Steve following. "I had wanted an older model but this O'Keefe was all I could find. It's 1952 I think. I wanted something for my grandmother when she came to live with me."

"You bought the stove yourself?" Steve asked as he set the groceries on the newly finished tile countertop.

"Yeah, the old one stopped working and I was spending a fortune on getting the landlord to fix it that I just bought myself a new one. Told him I would be taking it with me if I ever moved out." Zaria opened the refrigerator and began putting this away. "I did a lot of the upkeep on this place myself. Kept my rent low."

"That sounds like you would be paying more money to fix it up than he would be charging you for rent."

"Not really. I made a deal with my landlord that if he got the stuff to update my place I would put it in myself. I got to keep my apartment modern and fresh and he didn't need to pay anyone to come out and fix it, it was a pretty good deal. Although I'd really love to have a bigger place that's much more modern. Don't get me wrong, I love my vintage stuff, but that's only in the kitchen really. Everywhere else I would really enjoy a more modern and contemporary feel."

Steve didn't say anything so Zaria stuck her head around the refrigerator door to see him looking at the pictures hung in the hallway. So she closed the door, flipped the light on for the hallway and joined him to see which pictures he was looking at; it was a picture of her grandparents. Her grandfather had one hand on her grandmother's flat belly and the other around her shoulder while her grandmother had one also on her belly and the other around his back.

"That would be my grandparents. I think my grandmother had just learned that she was pregnant with my dad. It's one of the few pictures with them together." Zaria stated as she leaned a shoulder on the wall.

"Why is that...?" Steve finally asked, although he appeared to have trouble looking away from the old picture.

"Well one they never actually married. My grandmother defected to the states during the second cold war and my grandfather never came with her, something to do with his job, but he visited her a lot. She really loved him though."

"What happened to him, you don't talk about him like you talk about her."

Zaria thought for a moment. "I don't really know. From what I was told one day he stopped coming around. When my grandmother tried to look into it she was just told that he died in some skirmish somewhere but since they weren't married she wasn't given any more information. The Government took care of her for awhile, she did defect here with some really valuable information so they set her and my dad up for a while, gave her her citizenship then just left their life. I don't know much else." She shrugged. "You okay?"

Steve shook himself before he turned around and smiled at her, but it was clear something bothered him. "Yeah I'm fine. Just thought he looked like someone I-my grandfather knew, but I guess not."

Zaria pursed her lips. "Would you like something to eat? I don't have much but I just splurged on some bacon and eggs."

Steve blinked. "Splurged?"

Zaria laughed as she went back into the kitchen to continue putting away the small amount of groceries she had. "Yeah, I spent extra money on bacon and eggs. I may work two jobs but I have a lot of bills to pay off so it's kinda like Christmas when I get to buy some bacon and eggs."

"Don't you need to go to bed if you just got off work?" Steve asked as he followed her into the kitchen.

"Normally I would but since I got off so late and returned home late I'll probably just shower off then head into work again at my other job. So might as well have a good breakfast right?"

"That would be great, only if you don't mind if I walk you to your work. I don't like the idea of a young lady walking alone this late, or early, in the day."

Zaria chuckled as she grabbed the eggs, bacon, frying pan, wooden spoon and tongs, balancing them all in two hands as she made her way over to the stove. "Alright I agree as I doubt you would let me walk myself anyway even if I said no."

"You would be right."

Zaria smiled and shook her head. "Well sit down, this shouldn't take too long. How do you like your eggs?"

Breakfast finished quickly with the GQ model, otherwise known as Steve, offering to do the dishes, giving Zaria a chance to take a quick shower and change before her daytime job. She was quite thankful that she happened to do the dishes the other day as it was the norm for her to abandon her dishes in the sink for days until she had nothing left to use.

"Alright GQ," Zaria said as she exited the only bathroom in her small apartment. "If I don't hustle I'm going to be late."

"GQ? Good Quality...?" Steve asked bewildered as he turned his attention to where he heard Zaria's voice. He stopped, stunned by the one-eighty her appearance had just taken. Gone was the worn out leather jacket, old jeans, and heavy boots only to be replaced with a trench coat, pencil skirt, stockings and knee boots.

"Gentleman's Quarterly." She answered with a chuckle. "You know, that mens magazine with all the good look models or actors on the front cover. You would fit right in if you were wearing something other than those ratty sweats of yours. Which reminds me, are you seriously going to walk me to my work without a jacket?"

Steve blinked, still confused by the GQ statement, it seemed he would have to look up this magazine, and then thought about the jacket situation. He would not get cold since his internal temperature ran warmer than most, but it would be better to not garner attention without one and yet he didn't bring one with him because he planned on being back in his home before most people would be out and about on the streets of New York City. "I don't have a jacket." He finally answered with a small shrug.

Zaria huffed before turning around and opening a closet door in the hallway. "Here," she said as she tossed him an old, heavy black coat. "It was my father's. It should fit you, just barely, but at least I won't get cold just from looking at you."

He accepted it gratefully and pulled it on. It was a little small, the sleeves stopped at just about his wrists and it didn't close over his chest, but it would do for now. "Shall we?" He asked as he went to the front door.

"Certainly." Zaria answered as she grabbed her purse, pulled out her keys and opened the front door, letting Steve out before her so she could lock all the locks on her door. She led them down the street at a quick pace and hopped onto the subway just as the doors snapped shut behind Steve; leaving the more dingy parts of the city far behind.

The subway train they were on was packed full, and though Steve was able to reach out and hold onto a bar for support Zaria wasn't quite able to reach. So instead she simply wrapped her fingers around his bicep causing him to stiffen in surprise.

"I'm not trying to molest you, or put the moves on you, we did just meet." She said as she moved in closer. "It's just easier to hold onto you then try to fight my way to a bar. Besides, I'm enjoying the annoyed looks from all the girls on the train.

"Annoyed?" He asked.

Zaria laughed. "You can not tell me you have no idea how attractive you are. Every girl on this train right now is completely jealous of the fact that I'm the one on your arm and they're not. Come on GQ, don't tell me you're oblivious to all the animosity being thrown at me."

Steve looked down at his companion, completely bewildered which made her laugh even more to the point where she almost missed the stop that she needed to get off at to get to her daytime job.

"Oh man, where did you come from." Zaria finally said as her laughter died down. She led the way up the escalator and onto the sidewalk before heading down the street to her destination. "Good looking, humble, great sense of humor and not swayed by looks clearly. Men like you don't usually exist here in New York. You are a diamond in the rough, my friend."

"I was raised to be respectful ma'am." Steve answered as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his sweats and realized that she hadn't let go of his arm. The warmth from her fingers was comforting, it had been a very long time he let a woman close enough to touch, even casually like this, not since...

He didn't like thinking about that.

They approached a large building with weathered copper lettering that should have spelled out Museum, but a few of the letters were missing. The building itself was well kept, none of the stones were missing and the concrete had very little in the way of cracks and the windows, what could be seen behind the tastefully picked decorative bars, were polished and clean. The lawns were clipped and the bushes and shrubs were well cared for making it appear the museum was mostly well off; or the owner just cared deeply for this place.

Zaria released Steve's bicep and hurried up the concrete steps to the large oak doors pulling out a key to unlock them. "Would you like a tour before we open?" She asked as she turned back to Steve with a smile. "I get the feeling you would really like this place."

Steve stood there for a long moment as he considered his options. He had never been really friendly with strangers and yet here he was sharing stories with a girl he had only known for two hours. He was enjoying her company and he wasn't sure how to react to that.

Sensing his hesitation Zaria smile wilted a little as she too realized what was happening. She cleared her throat and turned her attention to the museum. "Well thank you for your help with my groceries earlier and taking the time to walk me here. Just return the jacket when you can, no rush. It was nice meeting a good guy in this city. I hope you stay that way." With a final smile she turned and entered the museum, the doors closing behind her with a click that sounded final.

Steve stood there, huddled in the too small jacket and realized that he probably let the only woman he could get close to after what had happened to him leave. To him, that door closing behind them had a finality to it. It was over. That sweet, smiling woman was gone and he was unsure if it could ever be like it was with her this morning.

Two hours could be a lifetime it seemed.


	2. Note to the Readers!

To all the readers and reviewers of this wonderful one shot:

I have decided to continue the story as it seemed so many of you were truly interested in what will happen with Zaria and Steve. I do however want to let you all know that I won't be continuing it here it will continue with a different name so please, please look for:

Two Weeks and After

As that will be the new title.

I do want to warn all of you that the character and story development may or may not be what you're looking for so please, please do not bite my head, or my character's, head off if it isn't exactly how you may or may not have wanted it. My characters kind of take on a life of their own and they decide exactly what they want to do even if the author really doesn't want them doing that.

I really do hope all of you will enjoy the continuation and see where Zaria, Steve and the whole Avengers team ends up next!

Thanks!

~Pyro

/s/8814284/1/Two-Weeks-and-After


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